


cat unboxed

by 30k (plaindmg)



Series: nyandalphon [1]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, erune!sandalphon, no plot no beta only sadness, this was supposed to be horny but it's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22932247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaindmg/pseuds/30k
Summary: 4 conversations sandalphon has about his body.alternatively: au where lucifer draws inspiration from cats instead of feather dusters and decides to model sandalphon after erunes.also inspired bya tweet.
Relationships: (but like very indirectly hinted at. the lacroix of lucisan), Belial & Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy), Gran & Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy), Lucifer & Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy), Lucifer/Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy), Lucilius & Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy)
Series: nyandalphon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650175
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	cat unboxed

**Author's Note:**

> i am very sorry this deviated sharply from my original intent but. kitty sandalphon was invoked and i had to _try_ ,

**[1. Lucifer]**

On hindsight, Sandalphon should probably have planned better before springing the question out of the blue. But he hasn’t; he’s worried about it for days, turning it over and over in his mind, but never quite thought of what exactly he was going to say—just that he was going to say it.

That’s how he ends up here; cornering Lucifer just as he’s getting ready to leave again, with two half-questions cobbled together into something that makes Lucifer stop entirely and turn his full attention on Sandalphon. They’re still close—the attention feels heavy, like he’s still undeserving of it, still undeserving of the Supreme Primarch’s time—but Sandalphon wants to _know_ , and he’s finally dared to ask, so he waits for the answer.

“You are a primal beast,” Lucifer says, brow furrowed lightly. “Much like myself. Though I must admit to having drawn inspiration from a skydweller species for your design.”

“Why? Why not make me—” Sandalphon pauses, flustered, wondering how to best put it to words. 

Lucifer’s eyes gentle when he seems to realize what Sandalphon is getting at anyway. “In my own image, like my creator?”

“Yes,” Sandalphon says, carefully, and implores his ears to stop twitching.

Lucifer brings up a hand, bare fingertips cool but not unpleasant against the rim of Sandalphon’s ear, as if to soothe the twitching away.

“Sandalphon. You must realize by now that I am far from perfect. When I made you…I had feared that should you take after me, you may be ill-equipped to handle the threats that I could not.”

Though he doesn’t state it outright, the implication is clear; any threat that Lucifer cannot survive would fall to Sandalphon to deal with as his replacement.

“But I don’t see how this makes me— _stronger_ ,” Sandalphon says. It’s tinged with frustration, just a little bit, but surely Lucifer should understand what he’s trying to say—?

Lucifer’s thumb brushes along the edge of the ear, sending an involuntary shiver down Sandalphon’s spine that he has to fight to suppress. When he speaks, his tone is contemplative. “Perhaps you have yet to come into your strength.”

Sandalphon notices he’s been unconsciously leaning into the petting when Lucifer’s hand stills against the base of the ear, a solid and comforting weight. 

He blinks his eyes open; he’s not noticed they’ve drifted closed for a moment too long, either, and he’d feel embarrassed, but—the way Lucifer looks at him, infinitely fond and accepting, makes it almost impossible. 

“I do not regret anything about you,” Lucifer tells him, and runs his fingertips against the sensitive base of Sandalphon’s ear where it meets his scalp. “If I had to remake you again, I would not change a thing. You bring peace to me just the way you are, Sandalphon.”

And for the moment, the original question is forgotten as Sandalphon gives in—to the touch, to the shivers it sends down his scalp, to the praise. He closes his eyes again, and tries his very hardest not to purr.

* * *

**[2. Belial]**

“So, Sandy,” Belial starts, swinging an arm around Sandalphon’s shoulders.

Sandalphon shrugs it off, and elects to ignore him.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Belial says with a theatrical pout in his direction. “I have some questions for you. Professional curiosity, you could say.”

“I don’t see what I can tell you that Lucifer cannot,” Sandalphon tells him, trying not to bristle. After all, it’s true, and for Belial to come bother him instead of getting his answers from Lucifer or Lucilius feels—unnecessary, and _pointed._

Belial fixes him with a grin. “Sure you can.” The hand Sandalphon just shrugged off comes up around him again, this time tracing the bare skin of his upper back where his armor ends. “After all, you’re in possession of some pretty _unique_ anatomy no one else around here has. _”_

Sandalphon jerks away from the touch, tail coming up in an irritated sweep. “—What?”

“Come on, Sandy, surely an _examination_ for science’s sake won’t put you out too much. Aren’t you curious about how your body works? Ah, don’t tell me…you haven’t even mustered the courage for some self-exploration yet, have you.”

“None of your business,” Sandalphon growls. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“So worried about my to-do list,” Belial laughs. “No need to be jealous, Sandy, you’re the cutest thing on it. Though, I wonder—I hear a certain skydweller species has a tendency to go into heat around this point in their life cycle. Really makes you wonder how much inspiration our dear Supreme Primarch has taken from them, no? Maybe _you’ll_ come to _me_ someday.”

It’s simple provocation, Sandalphon knows, designed to unsettle him—from the sharp curve to Belial’s smirk to the too-knowing, too-intense light in his eyes; and yet, now that it has been said, he cannot shake the thought away. After all, Lucifer never quite told him anything beyond his role—surely, if there was something like this, he would mention it? 

Belial watches him like he’s fully aware of Sandalphon’s internal struggle and revels in it. 

Then he leans in again, mouth inches from Sandalphon’s ear. Sandalphon’s hearing is good, has always been good, so it’s as unnecessary a move as the rest of it—but his ear curves in instinctively to catch miniscule vibration of air anyway when Belial speaks.

“I’ll be waiting,” Belial breathes, and it sounds like a promise. “ _Sandy._ ”

* * *

**[3. Lucilius]**

“Out with it,” Lucilius finally snaps. 

Sandalphon’s tail stills where it has been making unconscious, nervous, sweeps against the neat white sheets of the examination bed.

“I—” His throat feels dry. “I was wondering about—my body.”

Lucilius arches an eyebrow at him. “Your body? You serve the purpose you were designed for, nothing more. Your query is irrelevant and unnecessary.” He frowns. “Unless you mean to tell me there is something wrong with you.”

 _I wouldn’t know if there was,_ Sandalphon thinks. 

He wets his lips, and tries to find the right words that won’t make Lucilius send him back to Lucifer in neatly dissected pieces. “Belial told me—”

“The fool,” Lucilius murmurs. “Go on.”

The words leave Sandalphon in an embarrassed rush. “He told me the species I am based on goes into heat.”

This time, he’s treated to both of Lucilius’s eyebrows rising. There’s a beat of silence between them before he speaks. “An absurd proposition. Primal beasts have no need for reproduction. A heat would serve no purpose.”

Sandalphon’s hands clench unconsciously in the sheet over his knees. “And if I was—if I had one anyway?”

Lucilius sets down the file he’s been holding with a sigh. He makes his way over to the bedside again in a sweep of robes, pausing to regard Sandalphon with his usual mix of disappointment and vague displeasure. “Speak plainly. Why these questions?”

It should be self-evident to someone like Lucilius, Sandalphon thinks, bitterly. “I just wanted to know.”

Lucilius clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Have you noticed changes in your body you haven’t reported? Any signs of an impending heat?" He pauses, looking unimpressed with Sandalphon's continued silence. "You are wasting my time.”

Sandalphon thinks of the strange flutter in his stomach whenever Lucifer fixes him with his endlessly patient gaze, the weird shudders at the base of his tail whenever Belial sweeps in with lips too close to his ear, and wonders if whatever the hell is wrong with him can even be fixed by Lucilius.

“No,” he finally admits, and lowers his eyes to escape Lucilius’s probing gaze. 

The hand that comes up to his ears is as far from Lucifer’s as it is identical to it—the touch is clinical instead of soothing, pointedly utilitarian instead of gentle. Lucilius examines the ear, bending it back in a way that almost hurts. Sandalphon miserably wonders why, despite everything, it still sends a twinge down his spine all the way to his tail.

“I always wondered why Lucifer modelled you after a clearly inferior species,” Lucilius says, thoughtful. The hand at Sandalphon’s ear falls to tilt his chin up for Lucilius’s consideration. “Regardless, these are his problems to deal with. Do not bother me again unless it impacts your ability to perform your function.”

Lucilius’s gaze is cold when he meets it. Sandalphon swallows, disturbed by the idea of ever bringing the topic up with _Lucifer_ of all people, and entirely unwilling to argue it with Lucilius.

“I understand,” he finally says, and Lucilius drops his chin and steps away in dismissal.

Sandalphon has already shrugged on his leggings and armor and is halfway out the door when Lucilius’s voice rings out again.

“Report to me immediately if there are any changes.” Sandalphon nods his understanding, hovering in the doorway, but Lucilius doesn’t spare him another look. “Dismissed.”

* * *

**[4. Gran]**

“So,” Gran says, and Sandalphon is hit with a powerful sense of déjà vu that only gets stronger when an arm slings around his shoulders. He fights the instinct to shrug it off. “What are you?” 

He flips a dagger in his hand. Sandalphon reluctantly tracks the elegant arch of it before Gran neatly catches it again. “This thing seems to react to you, but it reacts to both primals and Erunes, so. I was wondering.”

“I don’t know,” Sandalphon tells him. It’s not that Gran would push if he declined to answer; but at point, he feels the truth is the least he owes the crew. “I know I was made with the traits of that skydweller species in mind, but I don’t know how far it goes.”

Thinking of Lucifer is painful, still. Of all the things Sandalphon never got to properly ask him, this was one—not the most important by far, and yet still a painful reminder of how badly he’s managed to waste the precious moments he’s been given.

“It’s fine,” Gran shrugs, and steps away. A gauntleted hand lands on Sandalphon’s shoulder; yet another one of Gran’s quiet gestures of support. After spending months with the crew Sandalphon has begun to learn their individual languages of affection. “It doesn’t matter much, anyway.” Gran rubs his own neck, and glances away for a moment. “Unless you get sick or something. Even then, I think Fif should have no trouble patching you up.”

Gran pats his shoulder resolutely, and gives him a warm smile. No matter how many times he’s seen it, even had it turned on him, Sandalphon can never get used to how _genuine_ Gran is with his entire crew, with every single one of them.

Sandalphon clears his throat. “I know.”

“You know,” Gran says, measured gaze meeting Sandalphon’s. “You’ve come a long way. We’re glad to have you with us.”

“Even after everything I’ve done?” And Sandalphon would give anything for the ability to sound detached, instead of hopelessly hopeful and endlessly raw whenever he brings this topic up—again and again, like dragging claws over the wounds where his stolen wings once rested to reopen them—but months have passed, and he still feels no closer to paying back his sins. Not when each day Gran gives him his trust, his friendship, so freely and entirely undemanding of anything in return. 

“I remember it as well as you do,” Gran tells him. “I was there. I stopped you. But I’ve also forgiven you for it. Maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”

“No,” Sandalphon says, hoarse in ways he doesn’t intend. “It’s not been—it’s not been anywhere near _enough_ time, I haven’t—”

“No,” Gran agrees with him. He sounds sad, but there’s no trace of pity in his voice. “But the time will come. You can’t live in the past forever.” Gran smiles at him again. This time it’s tinged sadder; almost wistful. Choked up, Sandalphon can only nod.

“Excuse me,” he finally says, after clearing his throat for the second time. Gran lets him go with no objection, besides the usual careful way Gran always watches everyone.

“We’re going on another raid tomorrow,” Gran calls after him once Sandalphon has already turned to leave. Sandalphon pauses. “You’re going with Lucio and Seruel, so please get some rest.”

“Understood,” he calls back. Despite the impending headache of thinking about Lucio in close proximity again—he feels somehow lighter, and somehow heavier at once.

“And, um,” Gran calls again just as Sandalphon makes to leave for the second time. “Your ears. They’re cute. Just thought you should, uh, know that.” The dagger he’s been idly flipping around is now gripped firmly in the hand he holds up between them; Sandalphon would have thought Gran looks ridiculous like that, if he wasn’t momentarily stunned by the compliment.

Sandalphon dearly, _dearly_ hopes the blush he feels rising is less obvious to Gran than it is to him. “…Ah. Thank you?”

“So you shouldn’t worry so much,” Gran powers on with a sharp nod, committing to the end as always. “About them. I see you touch them sometimes, and it feels like you, I don’t know, dislike them somehow, and—you shouldn’t. They suit you.”

This time, it’s Gran who scurries away with another quick nod in Sandalphon’s direction. He still manages to toss a “Rest up!” over his shoulder as he goes; ever the reliable crew captain, even with a blush dusting his nose. 

Sandalphon stands there, tail swishing from side to side involuntarily, and wonders why life tests him so much.

**Author's Note:**

> eli has now drawn [kitty sanchan](https://twitter.com/_xanren/status/1234554430785228801) for our agenda please gaze upon he. he is beauty he is grace i will kis him on the face


End file.
